“To look at women is not the same as to murder them. No?”
“No it’s not. Thank you. That’s been very helpful.”
When they got to the second floor, Alfonso continued on down the stairs, Stuart and Claire headed for their room.
“Did you think the same as me?” asked Claire apprehensively.
“What’s that?”
“That someone might have been zoomed in on us.”
“No,” scoffed Stuart. “ We were well sheltered in the middle of all those trees.”
“Do you really think so?”
He turned the key in the lock of their door. “Yes. Anyway, you don’t get the same thrill if there is not at least a small risk.”
“I guess not.” She stepped through the door Stuart’s stretched out arm was holding open for her. “Did you learn anymore than the obvious from that?”
“In a word: No. It could explain why Hasem looked through his binoculars for short periods, but not as much as he seems to have. I mean, it would work up an appetite wouldn’t it? And from what we know of Alice, she would have happily fed that appetite. No, Hasem was looking at something else, but I’m damned if I know what it is. If you don’t mind, I might sit on the balcony for an hour or so. Something might come to me.”
Claire let out a small snigger. “Police investigations can be hard work, can’t they?”
“They sure can. Are you going to join me?”
“No. I’m going to lie on the bed.”
“If nothing crops up in the next twelve hours, I’m going to put this end of the investigation to bed. We’ll head down to the coast tomorrow. That’ll give us Monday through to Sunday to property shop and chill out.”
“Only if you’re sure.”
“I would like to have a late night sniff around in the bar tonight, but as I say, if nothing crops up, we’ll check out tomorrow.”
“Take my shoes off for me.” Claire dropped onto the bed and lifted her feet up.
“Sure. I have to say, I’m warming to the idea of a place on the coast. If you got one overlooking the beach, I could buy a pair of appetite-whetting binoculars.”
“You buy your own place then,” laughed Claire.
The following morning they were heading down the winding road towards the motorway running from Granada to the coast.
“That village was something else, wasn’t it?” chortled Stuart.
“It was like the air was laced with an aphrodisiac,” replied Claire.
“Maybe there is a chocolate factory we couldn’t see down in the valley, spewing out chocolate fumes into the atmosphere.”
“More like a Viagra factory.” Claire smiled towards Stuart, but he did not take his eyes off the road.
“Are we still heading for Nerja?” he asked.
“We are indeed, I telephoned our reservation through last night while you were out on the balcony.”
“But you were having a nap.”
“Unlike the opposite sex, us girls can multitask.”
“Be deceitful you mean.”
“I was just lifting any unnecessary responsibility off the shoulders of the great detective.”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t feel I know anymore about Alice’s death than we did before we stepped onto the plane to come out here.”
“You know more about Alice though. And you also know a bit more about Hasem. It must have helped you build up a better picture of them both.”
“I guess you’re right, but I was hoping for a result.”
“I thought you got one?”
Stuart took a moment to reply. “Oh, I see what you mean. I certainly got a result there alright.” He put his hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze.
Two hours later they were sitting in the café bar at the Balcon De Europa hotel. Claire decided the moment was right to find out if a reality check was required.
“Did you mean what you said in the olive grove?”
“Of course I did. I had been building up to that for weeks.”
“It wasn’t just a heat of the moment thing then?”
“No. I love you, and you’re the best looking woman on the planet.”
“Get real.”
“You are through my eyes. And Pepé thought so too, and he should know.”
“He didn’t say I was the best looking woman in the world. In fact he implied I was past my sell by date.”
“The fact remains, I love you and I want to marry you.”
“Indulge me would you?”
“How?”
“Well, here we are looking out to a beautiful coastline and down onto a lovely beach. What better place for a proposal?”
“Claire. Will you marry me?”
“I would love to.”
Their hands entwined and their heads moved towards each other above the table until their lips met. The kiss was as passionate as a kiss can get. It was only brought to an end by a ripple of applause from two waiters. Stuart and Claire both had broad smiles across their face as they nodded their thanks to the waiters in unison.
“We can save that one for the Mr and Mrs quiz,” said Stuart.
“I will remember both of them to the day I die.”
They kissed again.
“Tell me, what does my fiancée want to do this afternoon?”
“She wants to have a look around the shops, and check out the prices in some estate agents.”
“You’re serious about that then?”
“Yes I am. And if I am going to do it, I want to do it before we are married. That way I can do the deal I want to do.”
“I’m not following.”
“I want it to be my debt, not ours.”
“It will be half my debt once we are married.”
“Marry me and you marry my debt. But you will never be able to say I sprang it on you.”
“A little bit of debt, a lovely cottage in Rottingdean, and an apartment in Spain, it doesn’t sound too bad to me. Oh, I will also be marrying into your successful business.”
“That too. I hadn’t thought of that. We could end up a three property couple.”
“Let’s not think about the finances now, let’s just enjoy the moment.” Stuart turned his head to take in the view.
When Stuart looked back towards Claire, he said: “I’m going to spend a wedge of money while we are here as well.”
“What are you fancying?”
“You. And something to put on your finger.”
“You don’t have to buy me a ring here; Debbie’s Luke will get us a good deal.”
“I’m not looking for a good deal. I want to buy you an engagement ring here in Spain. That way, every time I see it sparkle it will bring a sparkle to my eye. Come on, drink up, and let’s go shopping.”
“Okay, do it then, blow your money on me. It will be a nice memory.”
“Perhaps we should go back to that olive grove for our honeymoon.”
“No, we should make some different memories somewhere else. There are a couple of posh beach hotels in Jamaica that are even naughtier than the Verde Vista.”
“Are there? I’m intrigued.”
By Friday lunchtime, Claire had a three quarter carat diamond, platinum band, engagement ring on her finger.
“Knock thirty thousand off that, and we have a deal,” she said.
“Sorry madam, we could not do that. We are offering you a price that matches anything you will get along this stretch of coastline. And Barrianna beach is a prime location. At brochure price less twenty percent, it will be a very sound investment for you.” The sales lady maintained a false smile on her face throughout.
“Well you have my mobile number if you change your mind.”
“Why don’t you go and have another look at the apartment, I am sure you will…”
“Oh, I have seen it twice already, a third viewing will not change how much I am willing to pay.”
“Maybe I could ask my manager if we could stretch to an extra five thousand discount.”
“As I say, thirty thousand and we have a deal. I could transfer a twenty percent deposit to a client account with my solicitor here as soon as I am back in Brighton on Tuesday.”
“You already have a solicitor here in Nerja?” The woman sounded sceptical.
“I have one on standby, yes.” Claire delved into the side pocket on her new leather handbag. “This is his card.”
“I will ask.”
“Thank you. Do let me know as soon as possible, I am having a second look at two apartments in Torrox Costa this afternoon.”
“Torrox Costa is not Barrianna beach madam. If you intend to rent the apartment out, properties here command a far greater price.”
“As I said, renting the apartment out is not part of my short to medium term plan.”
“I will do my best for you madam.”
“Thank you, I look forward to hearing from you.”
“I will be in touch.”
“Bye for now.” Claire turned and walked out of the sales office into the bright autumn sunshine.
“Bye,” said Stuart as he followed her out.
“Goodbye sir.”
“I didn’t think you were keen on those two in Torrox,” said Stuart, as he tucked in alongside Claire.
“Let’s get back to the hotel, and get our beach gear on. We could grab some lunch in one of those places along the promenade and then go back to that sheltered spot where we were yesterday.”
“Ah. We are not going back to Torrox then.”
“No, my white bits may not be as white as they were, but another dose of sunshine would not do them any harm at all.”
The couple were sunbathing at the eastern end of Barrianna beach when Claire’s mobile rang. She let it ring four times before answering it.
“Hello.”
“Hello. Miss Marsh?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Caroline.”
“Oh, hi.”
“I spoke with my manager. The best we can do is a further fifteen thousand reduction, which will also save you additional money on taxes and the like.”
“Oh, what a shame. Thank you for trying.”
“Will you not reconsider? It is exceptionally good value, and a very sound investment. When properties prices start to rise again, Barrianna beach will give you the best growth of any frontline property along the Costa Del Sol coast.”
“As I say; thank you for trying. Bye.”
“Well, you know where we are if you change your mind.”
Claire pressed the end call button on her phone.
“No deal then,” asked Stuart.
“Not yet.”
“I thought you were pushing your luck, even though you didn’t drop twenty-five percent below the bottom line as you said you would when we were up the hill.”
“It’s a lovely place though isn’t it?”
“That it is.”
“I think we will like coming here a few times a year. Maybe we could have the occasional night up at the Verde Vista for old times’ sake.”
“Riddles girl, my fiancée is talking in riddles.”
“Your fiancée knows her onions. Believe me; the wonderful Caroline will be phoning back before the sun goes down. And then you can have your present.”
“Present? What present?”
“I have something for you in the bottom of my bag.” Claire patted the top of the small holdall by her side.
“Can I have it now?”
“No. You’ll have to wait.” She leant across to kiss him and then settled back down onto her towel.
The call came twenty minutes later. Stuart sat up and listened to the deal being done.
“I sign the papers tomorrow morning,” said Claire, as she put her phone away. “I said we would be there at eleven.”
“I picked up on that. And it didn’t sound like you had to concede any ground?”
“No. It’s a dream come true. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I thought you were dead and that Dave and I were going out of business. I just never believed all this would happen.”
“Well it has Claire, and you deserve every bit of it. Now where’s my present?”
“It’s not wrapped.”
“Don’t start that again.” His right hand was already on the zipper of Claire’s holdall.
After a short rummage, he pulled out a pair of binoculars.
“You’re crazy you are. What’s this all about?”
“I told you I would get that apartment, and I thought you might need to whet your appetite a bit more often as we grow old together.”
“Huh. Wives don’t allow their husbands to ogle topless women through binoculars.”
“Your future wife will. Just be discreet, don’t get caught.”
“But Claire…”
“Just because we are getting married, I don’t want you to change. If men didn’t like looking at naked women, I wouldn’t be able to afford that apartment.”
“I’ll say it again; that’s why I want to marry you.” He lifted her hand and stared at the ring on her finger.
Chapter 6
On the last day of March the following year, a white Seat car headed up hill past the Hotel Verde Vista. Ten minutes later it was back again, pulling into the nearest marked parking space on the street outside. A woman with long dark hair stepped out and slipped on a large pair of lightly tinted sunglasses. She was wearing a dark-grey suit with a short jacket. A white blouse hung over the top of the knee-length skirt. The black heels she had on were hardly the shoes most women would choose to wear to drive the dangerous winding road up to the village.
As she walked towards the back of the car, she paused a moment to survey the countryside that dropped away from the other side of the road. The woman nodded her approval before opening the back door of the car. She pulled out a small case on wheels.
Inside the hotel, Alfonso was wiping down a table. He stopped what he was doing the moment the woman walked in. Recognising she was not Spanish, Alfonso spoke English.
“Can I help you?”
“We have a reservation. Martinez.”
Alfonso headed for where he kept the room keys behind the bar. He looked at the woman again and wondered why she had a Spanish-sounding name but did not reply in Spanish when he spoke to her in English. She could have been Spanish; she had brown skin and long dark hair, but her face did not quite have the look of a Spanish lady. As he passed her, he caught a glimpse of her right breast through a gape between the top two buttons of her blouse. She followed behind him and stopped at the bar.
“Señor and Señora Martinez. Second floor with view as requested.” He put the key down on the bar. “I will need your passport.”
“I am sorry, I do not have it with me. My husband will be joining me tomorrow. He has had to stay on in Cordoba. Rather foolishly I left my passport at reception there. We didn’t check out you understand. I have their card if you would like to phone them.”
“No problem, mañana.”
“Your name please?”
“Kamela. It is only right that I should give you a deposit.” She placed a one hundred euro note on the bar.
Alfonso hesitated before taking it and stuffing it into the wallet he always carried in his back pocket. “Thank you madam.” He stepped over and pulled open the door marked Privado.
“I have a case in my car. Could you arrange for it to be brought up to the room?”
“Sí.” He took hold of the car key she was holding out.
“It’s the white hatchback, almost opposite the entrance.” Kamela scraped the room key off the bar and towed her trolley bag through the door.
Ten minutes later Alfonso gently tapped on her room door.
“Come in.”
He turned the door handle and gently pushed the door open. With two hands on its handle, he lifted the large blue suitcase inches off the ground and struggled through the door with it.
“Thank you. Just leave it there.”
Alfonso lo
oked up to see Kamela holding out two one-euro coins in her fingertips. She had lost the jacket and her blouse was unbuttoned down to her navel. The push-them-up bra she was wearing bulged her breasts above the black lace.
“Thank you.” His hand reached out for the coins, but his eyes focused through to her chest. As a consequence he knocked the coins out of her hand. They hit the tiled floor and bounced in opposite directions.
“Sorry.” Alfonso pursued the coin that went to his right.
Keep him sweet and he won’t ask questions, thought Kamela. Keeping her legs as straight as she could manage, she bent down to pick up the second coin, deliberately staying down longer than necessary.
“There you are.” She held out the coin.
This time Alfonso stayed focused on it. “Sorry.”
“My pleasure.” She smiled.
Alfonso turned on his heels and left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.
Kamela pulled down the small zip on the back of her skirt, unhooked the clasp, and let it fall to the floor. She stepped out of it, bent to pick it up, and dropped it on the bed next to her binoculars.
“Time to announce your arrival,” she said to herself quietly.
Dressed in her gaping blouse, black underwear, black stockings and four-inch heels, she picked up her binoculars and went out onto the balcony. She sat down in the same chair that Stuart had sat in five months earlier.
It took a while, but she eventually spotted the villa with an orange tiled roof, and a green and white striped canopy covering the terrace at the end of the pool. A closer look at the open patio door through the binoculars told her someone was home, but they were not sunbathing so early in the day. The good news was that there were two very large lilos floating in the pool, as she hoped there would be. The blue tape she had brought with her was an almost perfect match.
Without exception, every man who passed under that balcony, turned their head back again ten or so metres later. Some even nonchalantly ambled by on several occasions. The news was spreading; there was a hot chick staying at Hotel Verde Vista.
It was not by chance that Kamela ended up taking her evening meal at La Bodega, just as Stuart and Claire had done. The fact was; it was the only place in the village that looked acceptable for a visitor on their first night. Maybe a backpacker would gravitate to one of the cheaper options, but not a tourist with a credit card.
The Spanish Hotel Page 10